


Steve Rogers, Casanova extraordinaire

by ann2who



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (But They Both Really Want It), Awkward Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Spells & Enchantments, Steve Is The Master Of Seduction, Tony Doesn't Know What Hit Him, Until it isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ann2who/pseuds/ann2who
Summary: Telling someone you love them is, in Steve’s book, the hardest things in the entire world.Until it suddenly isn’t.Or: One Halloween party, many magical costumes, and a very confused Tony Stark who has trouble dealing with Steve’s sudden flirting skills.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [情圣队长](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265735) by [fangxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangxia/pseuds/fangxia)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Стив Роджерс — выдающийся Казанова](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746897) by [Leshaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshaya/pseuds/Leshaya), [WTF_Superfamily_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Superfamily_2018/pseuds/WTF_Superfamily_2018)



> So this is kind of stupid. But in a good way, I hope.  
> It’s all unbetaed, so I apologize for any mistakes.  
> Enjoy!

“What about this one?” Steve asked.

Sam turned around. “What’d you get?” His eyes dropped to the package tucked against Steve’s side and a deep, heavy sigh left his lips. “Steve…”

“What? It’s a time-honored classic,” Steve defended himself, holding up his selection with a cautious smile. Admittedly, a ghost costume wasn’t exactly original, all things considered, but a costume was a costume was a costume, and Steve didn’t need anything special.

Sam seemed to disagree.

They had been in the costume store for over an hour. Sam had tried a few outfits already, while Steve was still sorting through the many shelves. The sheer number of costumes was overwhelming in itself, and don’t even get him started on the explicitness of some.

They had sexy _nun_ costumes, for heaven’s sake.

It wasn’t that Halloween hadn’t been all kinds of crazy back in his time, too, but as with all things in life, the 21st century had managed to make it even flashier.

And yet, a part of Steve really looked forward to tonight.

A frighteningly large part.

He was still a bit wary about the huge party Tony had planned—someone had mentioned two hundred guests—, but he _was_ glad he’d get to have some fun with his team.

Their recent mission had been a handful. They’d helped Thor with Loki—again—keeping the Trickster God from wreaking any more havoc in Asgard— _again_. With Loki, they were never truly in a life-threatening situation, but his little mind games always left Steve emotionally wrung out, and this time was no exception.

In the end, they’d managed to put Loki in a cell that wouldn’t hold him for long, Loki had vowed revenge like he always did, and they’d all went home. The outcome was that Thor was back to brooding, Natasha was far more thin-skinned than usual, and Bruce was back to reading a lot instead of talking to someone.

So yeah, Steve could admit that Tony’s idea to throw a party had been a good one. It would hopefully put everyone’s mind off the Loki-disaster.

Also… he kinda looked forward to being completely free for one whole night. Free of all expectations, free of weighing every word coming out of his mouth, free of people looking at him in that expectant way they did, free of worrying about disappointing anyone by doing or saying something they didn’t expect to hear from Captain America.

Halloween meant dressing up, Halloween meant masks and hats and wigs and a lot of stuff that culminated in one very important thing: No one would recognize him.

And this costume would serve that purpose just fine.

“Okay…” Sam started, still looking at the costume in Steve’s hand like it had personally insulted him, “can I give you a friendly advice?”

Steve’s smile faded. “I know it’s not anything fancy. I don’t mind.”

“I know, I know. It’s just… that thing is basically a giant bed sheet. No one will see you. At all. That’s like… missing the whole point of Halloween.”

“Free candy, you mean?” Steve suggested, deadpan.

“No.” He smiled at Steve. “To be whoever you want to be. Halloween’s the perfect chance for everyone to spend a night without repercussions. You can’t tell me there’s nothing else here that you looked at and wished you had the guts to try on?”

“Well,” Steve said uncertainly, eyes once more dropping to the ghost costume before braving Sam’s gaze again. “That’s really, um, easier said than done. I liked some of the stuff over there but I’m not—”

“Whatever you’re thinking of is exactly what you should get,” Sam observed. “Like I said, the point is to have fun being someone you aren’t. I, for one, am going to totally rock the Giant Penguin outfit, and no one can stop me.”

Steve stared at the costume Sam was holding up, and had the foresight not to put his thoughts into words.

He turned around, and spotted a foiled costume at the end of the corridor. He had walked past its shelf a couple of times now, and for some reason, his mind kept drifting back to it. “What about this one?” he asked.

Sam stepped up next to him. “‘Men’s Renaissance Casanova Masquerade Costume’?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling as he read the description. “Really?”

“Why not? I’ll have a wig, and a mask.” No one would recognize him with a large mask on his face.

“A bit twisted, isn’t it? That Captain America’s going as the world’s most famous womanizer?”

“I thought it’d be funny,” Steve replied. Being someone, however temporarily, who didn’t need to be a ‘virtuous beacon of hope’, as the news had recently put it, would be heavenly. And also—Steve secretly admitted to himself—the idea of Casanova, who just put himself out there, being so open about his feelings and not caring in the slightest what people would think about him—it was something he could admire.

“And, well, fun,” Steve added with a nod to the display shelf. “It’s effective, and if I don’t find anything here, Tony will force me to buy one of these several-thousand dollar costumes.”

“Which would be horrible, of course.”

Steve sighed. “It’s unnecessary,” he explained. “And I don’t know why he’s making such a big deal out of this, anyway. Especially since _he_ isn’t going to wear any sort of costume.”

Sam snorted. “Right. What did he say again? ‘It’d be a travesty to cover up the world wonder that is Tony Stark’?”

Steve cracked a smile at the memory. “Yeah. He said he’d be wearing a seasonal tie and that’s that.”

Sam chuckled. “The guy’s impossible.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, followed by another, much softer, sigh. “He really is.”

Sam’s expression turned a little pensive as he regarded Steve. It was likely a good idea that he kept his thoughts to himself, as well. Steve knew he was being pathetic, thank you very much.

Also pathetically in love with Tony, but he really didn’t need to go there.

“You think you can pull it off? The whole Casanova thing?” Sam asked instead. “In the movies the man isn’t exactly discreet.”

“I think I can manage.”

“And I think I’ll pay good money to see that.”

“Thank you for your confidence.” Steve glanced again at the ghost package. “Well, no ghost then.”

“You won’t regret it,” Sam said, casting him a small grin. “The whole handsome-suited Casanova thing… if a certain _someone_ doesn’t fall for you with a glittering golden mask on your face, there’s something wrong with him.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve said, laughing despite of himself.

“Or maybe you can finally make a move yourself,” Sam suggested, a little more serious. “Heaven knows you pined long enough.”

There was a lot Steve could say about that, but he decided to let it slide. ‘Making a move’ on someone like Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist TM, especially after their rocky start and them not seeing each other for months afterwards, it… it wasn’t easy, okay? Not just because Steve had never really learned how to flirt with someone, or how to casually make his feelings known… Tony was— _Tony_.

They were friends now, sure. They spent lots of time together, and they didn’t fight all that much anymore, and whenever they did, it was mostly because they secretly enjoyed bickering with each other. Them becoming friends had been so _easy_ , like once they’d decided not to take every side-comment personally, they actually got along just fine.

Better than fine, really.

Steve couldn’t remember when exactly his fondness for Tony had turned into more, but by now, these feelings had settled inside him so deeply, it was hard to think of anything else whenever Tony was around him. And repeatedly chanting _I love you, I love you, I love you, God, I love you_ , while talking to Tony didn’t really make it any easier to have a normal conversation.

So, nowadays, being around Tony was… hard. And whenever Steve tried to act smooth, maybe even flirt a little, he was back to feeling like he was five-feet-something tall. The danger of falling for Tony was ever-present in Steve’s mind. Love was an all-consuming thing for him—always had been. And apparently, it turned him into a complete and utter idiot.

“Anything can happen on a party, you know,” Sam said, drawing his attention back to the present. He was leaning against one of the shelves as he regarded Steve with an all too serious look. “People are relaxed, there’s music and drinks and stupid costumes. Certain busy people won’t be busy at all… could be a good moment to take that step. If that’s what you want.”

Steve bit his lower lip, as he glanced at Sam. “It’s not like I haven’t tried before.”

“Well, I haven’t known Stark for long, but even I can tell that when it comes to interpersonal relationships, you’ll need to be more direct. From what Clint told me, you guys spent most of that first year not talking to each other. Of course he thinks there is no way in this world or the next that you would ever think of him as anything more than the guy who happens to be on the same team with you. Have you ever considered just telling him?”

Steve huffed. “Of course I did. I just… I don’t know… how.”

“PowerPoint presentation?”

“Very funny.”

“Not funny. Practical. It doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it gets the point across. The important thing is that you’ll have to make him realize that things have changed.”

“I _try_ ,” Steve protested, frowning. “I make him his favorite sandwiches all the time, I give him foot rubs when we watch movies, I sit in his shop for hours, complimenting him on his work—and when he asked me to tinker on the shield last week, I gave it to him.” He made a face, thinking back on the rather loud argument about electromagnets and little repulsor units that had followed. “Not something I’m going to do again, but I was trying to make a grand gesture.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Sam started, “but while all of this is… disgustingly sweet, I don’t think it’s obvious enough. Could still be a really close friendship. And you wanna show him that, aside from caring about him, you also really want to get into his pants, don’t you?”

“ _Sam_ ,” Steve hissed, looking around. The cashier looked busy, but Steve really didn’t want to make it to the front covers tomorrow.

“I haven’t dated in a while,” Sam went on, unfazed. “But I do remember directness being an issue. Especially with the smart ones. There are things Tony will only get if you literally wave it in front of his face.” He paused, grimacing. “Which I meant figuratively.”

Steve smothered a grin. “Of course.”

“It can’t be so difficult. You just need to be forward.”

“That’s the problem! I’m… really not good at the forward thing. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I completely fail at the forward thing. Every time I’ve attempted to flirt with him, it involved me, a red face, and contemplating certain barrels of Asgardian mead so I only have to relive it for about fifty-two times or so before I’ll pass out.” Steve shuddered and averted his eyes. “I can’t be forward. I’ve done it. I tanked.”

“You didn’t tank,” Sam protested. “I’m sure it wasn’t so bad.”

“Last time I tried I had a whole speech prepared, starting with why and how much I admire him, and then Tony asked me how my day has been, and I… I answered ‘Blue cheese’, because I wanted to make him blue cheese pasta for dinner. Tony was so perplexed he dropped his welding torch and ended up with a second-degree burn.”

“Oh,” Sam said, his eyebrows raised. “That’s… bad.”

“Exactly.”

“But… the problem remains that Tony has obviously reached the conclusion that your relationship is a strictly platonic one. He’s adapted to a situation he doesn’t believe will ever change, and it’ll be hard to convince him otherwise if you don’t just tell him.”

A long sigh rolled off Steve’s shoulders. He fought the urge to smack his forehead against the shelf next to him several times in rapid succession. “Why is this so hard,” he moaned. “Why do I always fall for people who are so… larger than life?”

There was a long pause.

“So you did?” Sam asked softly.

Steve frowned. “Did what?”

“Fall for him. You’re actually in love with Tony?”

Steve bit his lower lip. “I didn’t say that.”

Sam hummed in a way that spelled how perfectly he saw through Steve’s bullshit, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, come on, then, Casanova,” he said. “We’ve got a party to attend to. I have a feeling it will be a memorable night.”

Steve quirked a smile, grabbed the costume package, and followed Sam to the cashpoint.

This whole… being someone he wasn’t—it was just for one night, Steve knew that. He only wished he’d have the courage to do and say the things he didn’t dare say or do otherwise. Just this once.

Sam was right, of course.

He loved Tony. And he wanted him. In both a raw, physical sort of way and a holding-hands-after-missions way. Admiration and attraction was one thing—he’d experienced that with a few girls in his time, more so with Peggy, and maybe a little with Sharon.

With Tony, it was different.

When he looked at him, he yearned in a way that made it hard to breathe sometimes. And maybe tonight really was the best time to take that step and tell Tony exactly that.

 

* * *

 

Tony’s plan had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could when it came to his plans.

For the past months, Steve’s mood had been… well… souring. Whenever Tony saw him, he was acting strangely, like he was suddenly unsure if he still wanted to be Tony’s friend. Which… hurt. A lot. Because Tony’d thought they had been getting somewhere—hell, he’d thought Steve one of his closest friends these days, but he’d apparently been wrong about that.

And yet, Tony couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Steve. He just looked so… hollow all the time. In the end, Tony suspected he was maybe just tired—tired of working for SHIELD, tired of holding up the Captain America persona all the time, tired of being upstaged by a string of politicians and journalists. Not that Tony hadn’t had his share of fun, too, ever since they’d formed the team—oh, he’d had it… it just wasn’t the same. For Steve, it was not something he was used to. And Tony knew it had to be really exhausting.

In any case, he _hoped_ this was the reason for Steve’s bad mood. And that it wouldn’t always be like this. That Steve would be able to deal with his problems—eventually. That this giant tension in his every move was just an adjustment stage. He’d find his place, feel better, the sun would come out tomorrow and all that twaddle. Until then, however, Steve was clearly uncomfortable and nothing was looking to rectify that.

So, naturally, Tony’s solution was to throw an epic party, and the really surprising thing: Steve had looked almost glad for the idea. He’d declined Tony’s offer to buy him a designer costume, but he’d agreed to come, dressed up and everything.

The party was supposed to be the antidote for Steve’s brooding, complete with lots of alcohol and willing women to flirt and dance with. And maybe more afterwards.

Of course, Steve wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who spent his spare time drooling after random women. Steve wouldn’t want a grudge fuck. He wanted to be loved and cherished. Or wanted to be wanted, at the very least.

And hell, Tony _wanted_. But he wasn’t stupid. He recognized a losing game when he saw it. Steve was… _Steve_. And Tony’s infatuation would obviously remain a pipedream.

Still. While there were times and reasons the pay-off for playing host to a bunch of superheroes wasn’t as rich as the brochure had promised, this wasn’t any such time.

The party was going strong. There was a symphony of voices erupting through the rooms around him, and people were laughing and having fun. There were ridiculous costumes, and party music, and snacks and alcohol and… as far as Tony could spot his teammates within the masses of crazy costumes, they were all having a good time.

Which was the whole point.

And _okay_ —if Tony secretly hoped to find Steve and talk to him a little, carefree and casual like they used to do, then so what? Sue him.

Adjusting his Halloween-tie one more time, Tony stepped into the tower’s living room and, for a second, there was a green light flickering all over the place.

Tony blinked. Had to be one of the lasers on the ceiling, or something.

Or he was hallucinating, which was always an option.

“An impressive party, Mister Stark,” a woman said next to him. She was leaning against the wall, wearing a tiny green cocktail dress with golden ornaments. Her black hair was falling over her shoulders as she cast Tony a red-lipped smile.

“Thanks?” Tony replied, frowning at her. Something seemed familiar about her, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

She pushed herself off the wall and without hesitation, she reached for Tony’s Halloween tie and adjusted it slightly. Then, she winked at him. “Unfortunately, I have to leave early, but I’m sure you will have a _lot_ of fun.”

“I… always do,” Tony replied automatically, then watched as the woman stepped into the elevator, and waved at him with a predatory grin, before the doors closed.

Tony stood frozen for a moment, then shrugged. “Not the weirdest conversation I ever had,” he concluded, and turned back around. There was… more green light flickering across the room, like some kind of fog floating through the air and—

Oh.

Oh no.

* * *

 

Something strange was going on, and Steve needed to find Tony.

The party was in full swing. The music was loud, the stock of drinks was apparently endless, and the food tasted amazing, but half an hour ago, people had started to act… strange.

Sam, who was still in his Giant Penguin outfit, had begun to waddle instead of walking. He’d developed a fondness with the sushi plates, and talking to him wasn’t all that fruitful anymore.

Mostly because the only things leaving his mouth were shrill _peeps_.

He still looked like Sam. But he did act as if he was a penguin.

And looking around, so did all of the other guests. Apparently, they’d turned into whatever they’d dressed themselves for the night. And slowly but steadily, the party was definitely becoming crazy.

People dressed as cats were hissing at those who’d come as wolves or dogs, fairytale creatures were trying to do some weirdly emotional re-enactment of their respective stories, lots of Pokémon were doing arena-fights in the middle of the room, and a girl dressed as a T-Rex was slowly stalking a guy in a burrito-costume.

On the dance-floor, Clint was currently dancing in a classic Elvis dress, doing a perfect Elvis choreography.

_Peep_ , Sam said next to Steve.

“Yeah, something is definitely wrong,” Steve agreed, as he adjusted the golden mask on his face. There was a greenish light flickering across the floor and walls—something that definitely wasn’t normal.

He needed to find Tony. Now.

This was clearly some kind of spell. Halloween night turned into a night of real tricks.

Fortunately, the spell—and it _had_ to be a spell—didn’t seem to work on him. Steve was still dressed in his Casanova costume, but it wasn’t affecting him at all.

And anyway, this was all temporary, Steve told himself. He had a feeling he already knew which certain Asgardian Trickster God was behind all of this, and recent experience showed that Loki just liked to fool around for a short span of time.

The spell seemed harmless enough, as most of Loki’s spells were. So long as people didn’t hurt themselves while they were acting like their proverbial alter egos, Steve didn’t need to bother with this boring nonsense. Instead, he should figure out where Tony was.

“Have you seen Tony?” Steve asked.

_Peep_ , _peep_ , Sam replied, shaking his head.

Suddenly, he twitched, and with a few more _peeps_ , he waddled over to the buffet where a mountain of salmon tartare waited for him.

Well, the worst that could happen was Sam having stomach pain in the morning.

Time to find Tony.

He’d seen him earlier, walking into the room with his Halloween-themed Avengers tie on. He was wearing one of his fancier suits, with a pinstripe pattern, and it hugged each of his curves perfectly.

Tony looked like a wet dream come true. Sharp, and groomed, and cocky as ever.

And Steve really wanted to peel the whole ensemble off him.

_Slowly_.

Tony hadn’t recognized him, even though they’d only been an arm’s length apart. The mask had worked beautifully, and Steve had been able to simply drink him in for a few heavenly minutes.

Of course, staring wasn’t really what he had in mind for the rest of the evening. It was difficult to understand why he had always been so passive about his crush. He was an attractive man, Tony was an attractive man as well, and also bisexual if the tabloids could be trusted. There was really no reason why they shouldn’t be getting it on.

Right. Now.

Someone called his name and when Steve turned around, he saw Natasha walking up towards him. “You have to help me,” she said.

She was dressed in a Red Riding Hood costume, complete with a basket and red cape, and Steve noticed some of the wolves trailing behind her. Natasha looked absolutely horrified, which made it all the more clear that she, too, was under the spell.

Poor thing.

Behind her, Thor was stepping up to them. He was wearing a classic military outfit, with a fake gun, and aviator glasses. He put a steadying hand on Natasha’s shoulder.

“No worries, m’am,” he said in an All-American accent Steve had never heard him use. “I’ll keep those motherfuckers away from ya.”

Natasha looked all too relieved. “Thank you, good sir.”

Steve raised a brow at them, then turned his eyes back to the people around him. “All right,” he said. “Glad we got that sorted out. I’m going to have some fun.”

“Don’t!” Natasha called. “I feel like—something is not right. Maybe it’s a spell.”

“And if it is?” Steve asked, unbothered. “All the more reason to enjoy it while it lasts.”

And before his overly fearful friend could offer another retort, Steve turned and walked away.

If this _was_ one of Loki’s spell, if it was temporary, he needed to make the night memorable.

 

* * *

 

Whatever Tony had expected to find in the cloakroom after he’d slammed the door shut before some girl in a lion costume could get any closer to him, a muscled guy dressed in complete 18th century fashion was not it. But Jesus, what a sight he was.

He wore white tights, with a finely woven jacket on top, a white jabot and boots that reached up to his knees, and a freaking golden _mask_ on his face.

Outside the cloakroom, it had been all kinds of crazy. He’d seen Bruce, who was dressed up as a viking, teaming up with a bunch of pirates and a few water Pokémon to ‘conquer the swimming pool’. Natasha and Thor had built themselves a cardboard-castle in the kitchen, while Elvis-Clint and a Black Swan-ballerina were dancing to Nicki Minaj.

Loki had really gone all out on this one.

Tony’d come here in hope to find some peace until this spell—and he hoped to god the spell was temporary—would finally wear off.

Adjusting his suit jacket, Tony let his eyes absorb every luscious inch of the man’s outfit. Every bit of that broad back, every line of his profile, every amused twitch of his mouth as he turned around and regarded Tony like—

_Wait_.

_“Steve?”_ Tony asked, his voice a bit shrill. Steve could render him a slobbering blue-balled mess on a normal day, when he wore some plain old sweats and a shirt, but this was just unfair. He had no idea who exactly Steve was trying to represent, but by God, he looked _gorgeous_.

“Tony,” Steve said slowly, letting his name roll off his lips. “Looking for something?”

“A place to hide, actually,” Tony said. “Everyone’s gotten crazy. I think it’s a—”

“Spell, yes,” Steve agreed. “I’m sure it will wear off soon.”

“Lets hope so,” Tony said, dubiously. “Clint’s a horrible Elvis imitator.”

Steve hummed, as he began to walk over. “You look very good tonight,” he said.

Tony paused. “I—Thanks?”

“Very attractive, even.”

Tony had no idea what to say to that. Never before had Steve commented on his looks. Or smiled at him in the way he did right now. Beneath the golden mask, his expression was easy-going, flirtatious, maybe even a little seductive…

Oh.

“You’re under the spell, too, aren’t you?” Tony asked, swallowing. It was very clear now. Gone was the brooding, self-controlled man—the guy in front of him was looking for some fun.

“Does it matter?” Steve asked. “I wanted to talk to you all night.”

“Were you now,” Tony said.

“Very much.”

“What’s your costume about, again?” Tony asked, hoping for some hint as to how serious the situation was. Maybe Steve was dressed as some famous psychopath, and already planned Tony’s bloody demise.

But Steve only smiled at him pleasantly. “I’m Giacomo Casanova. At your service,” he said. He reached for Tony’s hand, and slowly pressed a kiss onto its back.

“You’re… Casanova,” Tony said, because that much was obvious, and his brain wasn’t much of use with Steve looking at him like that. Like he wanted to devour Tony from head to toe, like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Steve was also oozing self-confidence, and he was flirting with Tony like the real Steve never would. So Tony slowly took a few steps back, his hand on the doorknob, pondering his chances to take it on with a girl-sized lion after all.

“Don’t go, please,” Steve said, as he came closer again. One of his hands was tugging at the golden mask on his face, pulling it off and letting it drop to the floor. “You shouldn’t worry your pretty head. It’s all fine, and there’s a lot of things to be done that will give you much happiness.”

Tony’s mind had sort of… blanked out at the word ‘pretty’, and he felt like a schoolboy for internally swooning that much just because a bewitched Steve thought he was good-looking. “You’re not yourself.”

“I don’t care,” Steve replied. “We don’t know how long this will last. And I want you.”

Tony arched a brow. “You… do?”

“I do,” Steve agreed coyly. Another step and he’d be pressing up right against Tony. His hand settled on Tony’s hand, slowly moving it off the doorknob. Then, because this night couldn’t get any weirder, the same hand decided to leap ahead a few steps and cup Tony through his suit pants.

All breath left Tony’s lungs and he _tried_ finding words—and failed.

“Do you like me like this, Tony?” Steve asked, his voice sultry.

_I like you always_ , came to mind, but the hand at his crotch made forming words a little difficult right now.

So he nodded. There was nothing else he could do.

“Good. I like you, too,” Steve admitted, quirking a smile at him. “Shall I show you how much?”

Tony felt a lot like Steve was holding him in a thrall with those eyes, and those fingers slowly rubbing him to hardness. “Yes,” he breathed. “I mean— _no_. No. God, you’re clearly not in your mind right. You should sit this out until you come back to your senses.”

Steve licked his lips, then shook his head as he pointedly looked down at Tony’s middle. “You want me, don’t try to deny it.”

“Well, you’re _touching_ me. My dick’s always been a fan of touching. It doesn’t mean anything.”

That got Tony an eye-roll. “I would do anything you want,” Steve suggested.

Inwardly, Tony groaned. On the outside, he really tried hard to keep his cool. “Anything?”

“The sky’s the limit as far as I’m concerned.”

Well, fuck.

God, he really _hated_ Loki.

“Brave words,” Tony managed to say. “Also: No. You’re still under a spell, and this is obviously very wrong, so let me—”

Before Tony could finish his sentence, Steve suddenly leaned in, and pressed his lips to Tony’s.

It was barely a touch, only the tiniest of tastes. Then Steve pulled back, a breath apart, and whispered, “You know, Tony… Real love is the love that sometimes only arises _after_ sensual pleasure. Did you ever consider the fact that you and me spent enough time toying with each other?”

“What?” Tony shrieked.

“I always admired you. We could be so good together.”

Oh _goddammit_ , Tony acted like a blushing schoolgirl. Words, he needed… he needed to find words.

“I’m not even sure you swing that way, Cap.”

“Love’s three quarters curiosity,” Steve said with a cheeky smile, as his thumb touched Tony’s lower lip. “And I’ve always been curious about you.”

“Curious is one way to put it,” Tony said. “You barely talked to me in the past weeks.”

“I’ve been afraid you’d become aware of my feelings,” Steve answered, completely unbothered by the confession.

“Your… feelings,” Tony said, reminding himself very sternly that this was all just part of the spell. This Casanova-Steve was a giant flirt, and he did what he did to get what he wanted.

And for whatever reason, he wanted Tony.

“Let me show you,” Steve said, leaning in.

Tony’s eyes widened, and—this was so unfair. What Tony _really_ wanted to do in that moment, was to throw his arms around Steve’s shoulders and meet him in a wild kiss. This spell-controlled Steve would probably let Tony do whatever he wanted with him, but Tony couldn’t let that happen.

Not when Steve wasn’t himself.

That being said, Tony basked in his newfound sense of responsibility for about two seconds, before Steve grabbed him by the collar and drew him in.

“Steve—” Tony said, panicked. He had a split-second when all warning bells started to blare at once, but then Steve’s tongue was in his mouth and this was—this was unlike _anything_ he’d ever hoped to touch. It felt as if this was the first time in months, ever since his break-up with Pepper, that he’d ever felt anything remotely worth fighting for. In a blink, everything around them vanished—everything but Steve—his tongue, his lips, his body, as he tugged at Tony’s clothes and loved his mouth all in the same time.

_More_ , Tony thought, rubbing against Steve as he was pressed even further into the door.

Faintly, Tony realized Steve was pushing down his pants. “Want you so much,” Steve almost growled.

The thought was a bit terrifying but Tony didn’t object. Right now, it was all so simple. Steve wanted him. Tony wanted Steve. There was no reason why they shouldn’t be doing this, right?

Steve moved away from his lips and smiled. “Gonna have you now.”

_Sure, have me_ , Tony chanted in his mind, before a slither of reason forced itself back to the surface.

“Shit, _stop_ ,” Tony panted, gripping Steve’s hands before he could reach for Tony’s boxer briefs as well.

Looking annoyed, Steve drew back. “What is it now?”

“I… I want this. I’ll admit that. But you—you don’t. And the real you would never forgive me if I take advantage of you now.”

And Tony would never forgive himself if he hurt Steve like this.

Steve’s brows flickered with challenge, then his mouth was on Tony’s again. Tony tried to somehow dodge the move, but Steve was too fast, and clearly too set on his goal.

Well, it was only kissing, Tony told himself firmly. For now, Steve’s hands lay well behaved in Tony’s grip, and Steve didn’t exactly leave him much of a choice in this.

He’d forgotten what this felt like. The beauty of discovering someone for the first time—feeling them, gauging their responses to certain touches and strokes, learning their body, exploring… he’d forgotten this. And every stroke of Steve’s tongue gained more confidence. He moved with him as though he’d known the dance all along, and Tony was the lucky man who got to have him.

If only for a few stolen moments.

 

* * *

 

In many ways Steve didn’t feel different at all. Admittedly, he was realizing now that the costume _did_ affect him as well. It was making him more boisterous, more daring, more _everything_ when it came to seduction. He knew there was a foreign force inside him that made him go look for Tony, but Steve couldn’t find it in him to care much. Not when it had finally given him the courage to act on his feelings.

Not when it had given him _Tony_ , pressed up against him, kissing him like his life depended on it. The thought that his mind wasn’t fully his own at the moment was there, yes, but his wants and needs were still present, even if overshadowed.

And he wanted this. _Had_ wanted this, for a whole long while.

And Tony was so close to him. His mouth moved against Steve’s with ferocity beyond anything he’d ever experienced, the passion behind every kiss unlike anything Steve had been allowed to touch in the past. It was wild and untamed, brutal and fevered, and it was Steve’s.

_I gotta have him now. Before it’s too late._

Ripping his hands free, Steve pressed Tony against the door with his legs hiked around Steve’s waist. The fly of Tony’s pants was already open and Steve tried to shove the rest of it down his thighs. That made things a little more difficult, and eventually, Steve dragged a shoe off of Tony’s feet, and then the pants with it. And then, well, Steve’s fingers were dipping into Tony’s boxer briefs. It was surreal—a page out of someone else’s life. Something that would have been unfathomable just an hour ago had suddenly turned real.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Tony groaned, his voice alarmed even as his hips were jerking forward. His legs tightened around Steve’s waist. “You need to stop.”

Steve looked at him for a long beat before he stilled his hand. “I’m thinking you don’t really want me to.”

Tony huffed, looking despaired. His cheeks were as red as Steve had ever seen them, his beautiful brown eyes large as they stared at him. “That doesn’t _matter_. You’ll hate me.”

Frowning, Steve slightly drew his hand back. “I could never hate you.”

“You have no idea how happy I’d be if it was that simple.”

“I can make it that simple.”

Tony’s laugh rang without any humor. “Steve—”

“You like me,” Steve declared once more. “Don’t you?”

Tony glared at him. “Yes, okay? I fucking do,” he spanned, as if he couldn’t hold the words in much longer. “I have a crush a mile wide, and I like you. A lot.”

“But… not like this,” Steve concluded. He didn’t understand why Tony would force himself to resist his needs like this, but Steve _would_ respect his wishes. He liked to conquer, but only those who wanted to be.

Tony shook his head, smiling as if in pain. “My dick’s screaming bloody murder at me right now, but… no. Not like this.”

Sighing, Steve nodded. Then, he cocked his head in consideration. “Could I kiss you again? Just once.”

Tony swallowed. He closed his eyes briefly, letting his head drop against the door. “This is so _unfair_ ,” he whined. “It’s so freaking unfair. I will kick Loki’s balls so hard he won’t be able to move for _weeks_.” He fell quiet for a long moment, before he nodded. “We’ve already crossed that bridge, didn’t we? You’ll sock me one either way, so I might as well earn it.”

Steve huffed. He knew, deep down, that this was the least he would want to do once the spell would wear off, but Tony clearly wouldn’t want to hear that.

Tony, with his beautiful brown eyes, his ridiculously attractive goatee and the slightly bruised lips.

Men like Casanova weren’t supposed to swoon, Steve thought—though at the moment he didn’t think a lot of things. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him there was something important going on, that Tony looking at him like this was _the_ most important thing, but the rest of him didn’t care enough to stop himself. Kissing Tony had felt too good to stop over trivial things.

“I think the spell’s going to be over soon, anyway,” Steve told him, feeling his words to be true. “And I don’t want it to be. For the first time, I’m free. No more rules, no more fears. And especially no more worrying over what people think about me.” His eyes sparkled. “I want this. _He_ wants this, too. Don’t you want to give in to what we all want?”

“I… I don’t think you can really make any judgments right now.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Steve said, then leaned in again. Tony’s eyes were huge as he regarded him, and only closed, when Steve touched his lips—very gently—to Tony’s.

There was a noise in the back of Tony’s throat as he hugged Steve with both of his arms.

“Don’t hate me for this,” he mumbled against Steve’s lips, and repeated it a few times, before he sighed and let himself be kissed properly.

Steve had no idea how any of this could be deemed ‘wrong’, but Tony clearly seemed to think so. So he kept his hands at Tony’s shoulders, then at his neck, cupping his face as he poured all of those repressed feelings into the kiss.

Tony moaned and craned his head back to give Steve better access. His hands moved over Steve’s back, pulling him in. Trying his luck once more, Steve let his hand trail down, over Tony’s side, his waist, his hips, dipping between his legs…

“Steve,” Tony groaned, and it sounded both encouraging and warning.

“I won’t hate you. Just give in, come on…”

“God, you’re lethal,” Tony whispered, and Steve felt Tony’s cock twitch against his palm as he pressed against it. “I can’t reasonably be expected to withstand this,” he said as he looked up at Steve. “I’m sorry, don’t hate me… I’m sorry.”

With that, he kissed Steve, and Steve took that as the sign that it was okay now to let his fingers dip beneath the briefs, and curl them around Tony’s hardness. He’d never touched a man like this—had never touched _anyone_ so intimately. And he was amazed by the smooth texture of Tony’s cock, the slight wetness at its tip. After a moment of hesitation, Tony moved with him, back and forth, making all those delicious sounds as Steve stroked him. He wanted more, of course he did, but he didn’t want to risk Tony trying to stop him again, so this would have to do. Tony whispered ‘Don’t hate me’ into Steve’s ear over and over again, and Steve squeezed, and pulled, and tried to make him understand that he didn’t need to worry, that Steve wanted this just as much as he did. And just when Steve thought he was about to lose it if Tony didn’t touch him as well, it happened.

The moment when everything turned itself back on its feet. It took half a second in reality but he felt it coming for what felt like hours. He felt it—felt a strange heat flood his insides, felt his chest ache with a sense of memories. It happened quickly but lasted forever. That was it. The spell was over.

Oh God.

Oh… Oh _God_.

Tony’s hands tightened around him. He’d noticed.

And Steve—he had—he was about to—

“Please,” Tony panted.

Steve stared at him for a long minute, forcing his hand to a standstill. His mind was still trying to catch up with the situation, as Tony squirmed against him. The movement caused a move somewhere else, and Tony groaned when Steve’s hand reached what had to be the tip of Tony’s penis.

“Tony, I don’t… how—”

Even as the words left his mouth, it all came back in a rush. The party. The green light. The need to look for Tony. Tony walking into this room. He remembered his own words. The first kiss. Lots and lots of kisses afterwards… and then this.

Oh wow.

“Please,” Tony said again, looking truly despaired.

The expression had Steve confused, until he realized what Tony was asking for. He was close. Christ, he had Tony close to coming. He was close and he didn’t want to say it.

Channeling his inner Casanova, Steve forced his hand to move on Tony’s cock once more. If Tony needed this, he could do it for him.

And boy, was it ever different. The almost manic need to have Tony was gone, making room for Steve to actually enjoy this. For memorizing all those little noises Tony made, for the way his fingers dug into Steve’s biceps, for the way he felt Tony’s heart hammering against his chest.

His eyes traveled between them, transfixed on the sight of Tony’s length pumping into his hand. The visual grounded him to a point where sensation was transcended by reality. This was real—Tony was here with him, spell or not.

“Oh God,” he said, his eyes settling back on Tony’s face. “Tony…”

Tony groaned, a choked sound, as his eyes closed. He trembled, all but shook apart in Steve’s embrace. When he came, it was a quiet thing. He had his lips pressed against Steve’s neck as he went rigid. His whole body tensed and Steve pulled him nearer, pressing the softest kiss against his temple.

It wouldn’t occur to him until a good three minutes later what had just taken place.

Until then, the world stood still.

It was Tony who broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he panted, his face still hidden against Steve’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have— _fuck_ , I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Steve echoed, dazed, as realization hit him. As the full impact of what had transpired here became clear. “Oh God, I _violated_ you. Tony, I—”

“You were under a spell,” Tony said, his voice firm. He finally pulled back, staring at him. Immediately, Steve’s eyes flickered down to Tony’s lips, and something inside him twitched pleasantly, knowing that it was because of him that they looked as red and as slick as they did. “You didn’t do anything wrong. _I_ was the one who should’ve stopped this before…” Tony trailed off, shaking his head in disgust.

And that was when Steve’s brain caught up to what had really happened here. He’d been under a spell, true, but he’d only acted on what he’d wanted anyway. And Tony… Tony _hadn’t_ worn a costume. He hadn’t been affected.

Whatever Tony had said and done, there had been no magic involved.

_You like me. Don’t you?_

_Yes, okay? I fucking do. I have a crush a mile wide, and I like you. A lot._

“Did you mean it?” Steve asked. Tony was trying to wind his way out of Steve’s grasp, now, but Steve was having none of it. “What you said?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Tony spat, wiggling against him in earnest. It only caused more movement, and Tony whimpered, making Steve very aware that his hand had yet to let go of him.

“Would you please let me preserve some slither of dignity?” Tony snapped. “There’s a workshop with my name on it and I really want to be… not here.”

“I can’t do that,” Steve said, but eventually let go of Tony’s cock, wiping his hand on the costume’s shirt. It was a lost cause, either way.

“Oh, _screw you_ , Steve. Wasn’t this mortifying enough? I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry, I really am, but I just… Can you please just let me g—”

“I _like_ you,” Steve said, the words rushing out of his mouth before he could doubt himself. He wouldn’t let Tony run away now. Not after all of this. Not after those kisses, and those touches, and those words Tony had clearly not wanted to ever let Steve hear.

Tony blinked. “You—what?”

“I like you. I want you. The spell just… made me act on it. I didn’t think you’d want this, but then… you weren’t affected, were you?”

Tony’s mouth opened. Closed again. Then, he took a deep breath. “No… I wasn’t.”

Steve hummed. With his free hand, he cupped Tony’s cheek. He looked so vulnerable. “I’m sorry for forcing this on you. I didn’t exactly give you much of a choice, but… I really meant everything I said.”

Tony’s eyes were wondrous as they took Steve in. “Really?”

Steve swallowed. Nodded. “Yes. I… I’d wanted to ask you out for a long time.”

“You never said anything.”

“Didn’t know how. I was always bad at flirting and you’re… _you_. You had lots of dates, with lots of fancy people in fancy restaurants and I…”

“ _You_ are perfect,” Tony said with feeling. “You were completely irresistible. I didn’t know what hit me.”

Steve bit his lower lip. “Well, _that_ was the spell.”

“Steve,” Tony said, his voice serious. “You could’ve given me the barest of hints, the tiniest sign that you wanted me, and I would’ve been all yours. I don’t need any upper class restaurants. We could get a hot dog in Central Park, and _bam_ , perfect first date.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, before a slow smile spread over his lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Thought so,” Tony agreed, mimicking his smile.

“And you like me,” Steve clarified.

Tony’s only answer was an annoyed breath that brought an even wider smile to Steve’s lips. Steve leaned in, saying softly, “I know you do. I have—how did you put it?—a crush a mile wide, too. And I like you just as much.”

Shaking his head in wonder, Tony leaned forward, nipping at Steve’s lips. Then, he chuckled. “This is by far the weirdest conversation I ever had after someone jerked me off in a cloakroom.”

Steve felt himself blushing, and smiled as Tony reached for his wig, gently pulling it off Steve’s head. “Don’t get me wrong, you as Casanova was sexy as fuck,” Tony said softly, “but I think I like you even better as Steve Rogers.”

The words had Steve’s insides fluttering, and he stayed completely still as Tony’s fingers undid the bindings of his shirt, then pushed it off Steve’s shoulder.

In seconds, the material fell open, leaving Steve all but bare from the waist up.

“Can I…?” Tony asked as his fingers slowly undid the clasp to Steve’s pants. “I still need to return the favor.”

Steve swallowed thickly, but nodded nevertheless. His own arousal had been ever-present since he’d first touched Tony, but became circumstantial in the face of what was happening.

When Tony’s fingers curled around him, Steve groaned and couldn’t keep his legs from giving out. He dropped them both to the floor, with Tony sitting on Steve knees, and Steve reclining on his feet.

“What would you say,” Tony started, “if I told you that, theoretically, there’s lube and a condom in my pocket?”

“I’d say we don’t need the condom,” Steve answered and smiled when Tony’s eyes widened in surprise.

“That’s… right,” Tony said, baffled. “You sure you’re back to yourself?”

Steve chuckled. “Very sure.”

“Good. That’s… good. But I actually wanted to know if you want to—”

“ _Yes_.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Would you let me finish? Do you want to— _here?_ We could wait, go to my bedroom, do this like civilized people, in a civilized environment, after a few dates, if that’s what you w—”

Pressing a finger to Tony’s lips, Steve said, “Once we get out of this room, we’ll be busy with cleanup for hours. I don’t even want to know what happened out there. When I imagined what being with you would be like, I admit I had other things in mind… something a bit more normal, for once. But this is still far better than any of my daydreams—it means you’re really here, and that you really want this.”

Tony hummed, then quirked a smile. “So you daydreamed about me.”

“Amongst other things,” Steve said without an ounce of shame, then drew Tony in. Pressing their lips together, Steve channeled all remaining strength, and raised himself back to his feet, taking Tony with him.

There was a small couch a few meters away, and Steve gently carried Tony over there, then pushed them both to its surface.

“Hot,” Tony said, laughing when Steve pressed kisses against his neck.

And Steve—he couldn’t stop smiling. He had likely never heard Tony sound so carefree, so… _happy_. It was hard to believe his luck, that all of this mess had led to them both… _together_.

Tony’s fingers were back against Steve’s length, rubbing him slowly, and Steve about came apart. The slightest touch wasn’t enough—it _couldn’t_ be enough. Sparks ignited across his skin, shooting through veins and making him feel like he was alive for the first time since waking up from the ice.

“Strangest night of my life,” Steve admitted, as he finally freed Tony of his second shoe, and his pants.

Tony made a show of thinking about it, then shrugged. “Top five for me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, then watched as Tony pulled the small package of lube out of the pants’ pocket, and ripped it open.

“Can I?” Steve asked, and Tony raised a brow at him, before handing it over.

What followed was likely the least graceful foreplay Tony Stark had ever experienced, but to Steve’s amazement, he never teased him for it, never gave the slightest hint that Steve was doing a less than perfect job. He only smiled, and chuckled, and groaned, and whimpered. He tensed, and trembled, and dug his fingers into Steve’s back whenever Steve’s fingers were pushing into him just right.

It would’ve been enough to just remember this, remember how Tony looked at him, with infinite trust and adoration and love— _maybe_ —, but eventually, Tony stopped his movements by a touch to his arm, then pulled him close.

Sinking himself inside Tony was unlike anything Steve had ever thought it would be. It was tight and hot and slick and so goddamn intimate, it was hard to form a decent thought. And then Tony _pushed_ —pushed himself even closer against Steve. The friction was enough to alight what had only been fantasy with rich detail. A new realm of former ‘can’t haves’ was open to Steve now, and he intended to explore them all.

Tony moved against him, as his rhythm gained speed. It was… hell, it was them having sex in a broom closet, basically, but none of it mattered. For Steve, it was the most momentous thing in his entire life.

“Don’t stop,” Steve pleaded softly as he moved against him. “Please… I need…”

“I know,” Tony gasped, then tightened around him.

The sound that left Steve’s lips was truly embarrassing, and what followed was a string of both curses and praises. He had no room for comparison, but Tony obviously knew very well what he was doing. By the end of it, Steve was all but wheezing into open air, whispering Tony’s name over and over again. Tony took him deeper, and deeper still, and eventually, Steve released a low moan and felt himself coming apart.

It took a whole long while to come back to his senses, and by then, his head was cradled against Tony’s chest. There was a distinct wetness between them, and Steve smiled proudly to himself, not knowing what to do with all this happiness when he knew, with a clarity he’d never possessed before in life, that things would only get better from here on out. So instead, he simply listened to the low hum of the arc reactor und lifted his hand to softly trace its edge.

“This is really not how I’d imagined this night to go,” he admitted.

Tony chuckled, and brushed a kiss against Steve’s cheek. Following a sudden urge, Steve leaned in, and pressed a small kiss to Tony’s mouth.

“Me neither,” Tony admitted. “But I’m glad it did.”

“Me, too,” Steve answered. He could definitely get used to this. His eyes found Tony’s again and shone. “Not sure I would’ve ever had the guts to tell you how I feel. I think I’ll actually have to thank Loki for this.”

Tony paused, then chuckled as he pulled Steve back down to him. “Lets not get carried away.”

 

* * *

 

“So,” Bruce said, surrounded by the whole team the next morning.

Natasha nodded. “So.”

“Yeah…” Sam said. He was holding a hot-water bottle to his stomach, still looking a little sick.

“Don’t know what was more awkward,” Clint said. “Me dancing, Bruce naked-swimming in the pool, Sam wolfing down half the ocean—”

Sam shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t remind me.”

Bruce stared sheepishly at the floor.

“Or Steve and Tony having sex in the cloakroom,” Clint concluded.

A collective groan rippled through the room.

Tony, however, couldn’t keep himself from smiling. He and Steve were lounging on the couch, completely tangled up in each other. Reaching for Steve’s hand, Tony squeezed it slightly. “You’re all just jealous.”

“Traumatized,” Clint corrected. “That’s the word you were looking for. You could have at least locked the damn door.”

“I wanna see you thinking about locks when you get seduced within an inch of your life—by _Casanova_. The only remaining thought in my brain was ‘guh’.”

“Tony,” Steve chastised with a hand over his face. The man was _adorable_.

“What? I never stood a chance.”

“Not what I had in mind when I told you to be more direct,” Sam said to Steve, shrugging. “But whatever works for you guys.”

“Oh, it worked all right,” Tony replied, pressing a kiss to Steve’s left cheek while he ignored the gagging noises Clint made.

“I’m so sorry, friends,” Thor said. “I don’t know what came over my brother.”

Steve opened his mouth to comment, but apparently thought better of it.

“It was the spell,” Bruce soothed. “It came over all of us.”

At that, Tony couldn’t help but giggle. Steve poked him in the side, but grinned despite of himself.

“Okay, bad choice of phrasing,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes at them. “You know what I mean. No one should feel responsible. We were under the influence of powerful magic.”

“You were like zombies,” Tony corroborated, sighing. “Steve had no control over himself at all.”

Faux-sympathetic, Steve said, “Must’ve been horrible.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Yeah,” Tony said, as he looked at Steve with a fluttering feeling in his heart. “Horrible.”

“We should find Loki,” Thor suggested gravely. “Bring him to justice for what he’s done.”

“You know,” Tony started, glancing at Steve shortly for confirmation that this was okay. Steve rolled his eyes, but nodded. “No one was harmed, I think we can let it slide. This one time.”

Thor raised an eyebrow at them, before a small smile spread on his lips. “I see.”

“I have to hand it to you, Tony,” Natasha said from her place next to Clint, “craziest Halloween party I’ve ever been to.”

“You’re all welcome,” Tony said, then looked back at Steve. “And you’re welcome to wear that costume any time you feel like it.”

“Tony,” Steve chided, his cheeks pink once again.

“You’re welcome not to wear it, too,” Tony added, laughing when Steve playfully tickled his sides.

Around them, the others were commenting rather loudly on things like PDA and public and private space, but Tony didn’t even hear them. Happiness had been a long time coming, for both of them, and Steve was smiling at him like he was his personal sun, warming his heart with his presence alone.

No one had ever looked at him like this.

And Steve thought he had trouble with charming people. Ridiculous.

Tony curled in his arms after he settled back down next to him. He kissed Steve’s throat and dozed off to the gentle strokes of his hands on his back, as though they’d been doing this for years.

As though they’d both just waited for that final push that’d open their eyes.

It might’ve been the strangest way possible to get together, and kind of messed up, but when was their life ever normal? And feeling Steve’s heart beat against his chest—Tony wouldn’t change it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a couple of quotes by Giacomo Casanova in this fiction, and I stole the “Blue Cheese” joke from Buzzfeed (Thank you, you poor soul who is just as bad at flirting as Steve is).


End file.
